Descendant
by Tychon
Summary: Percy Jackson is a demigod — but not a normal demigod. He is a descendant of a member of the defunct Uchiha clan and unlocks the Sharingan eyes of his ancestors at the age of twelve. Trained by his ancestor's spirit, Percy strives to reach the top of the Greek demigod pillar. Inspired by — but not based on — CJShikage's "Demigod Uchiha." Tychon's long chapters are back!
1. I

For most of my life, I've been weird. At least, that's what most people would say about me. I've been kicked out of every school that I've ever been to, usually because of accidents that happened on field trips — and they were accidents, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Because of that, when we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I was sure that something would happen to warrant my expulsion.

Regardless of that, on the way there while my class was on the bus to go to the museum, Nancy Bobofit, a decently popular girl at Yancy Academy, decided that it would be a great idea to tear up her peanut butter and ketchup sandwich into small chunks and throw them at my best friend, Grover Underwood. He was what people would call an 'easy target' due to his crutches and being naturally scrawny.

On any normal day, I'd do something about it — yelling at her, threatening her, or both are all things that could happen — but a certain word kept me from doing much of anything: probation. If anything went wrong on the trip and I received the blame for it, whether I'd done it or not, I would be expelled. It was that simple.

Naturally, Bobofit knew that, probably because of her popularity. She also took advantage of it, as she was wont to do, and was going out of her way to piss me off.

"I'm gonna kill her," I muttered darkly. Grover dodged another piece of the sandwich.

"It's okay, Percy," Grover said in an attempt to console me. "I like peanut butter."

Another chunk of Bobofit's lunch got lodged in Grover's hair. He winced and my eyes narrowed.

"That's it," I started, beginning to stand up, but my friend pulled back down quicker than lightning.

Looking back on it, a small part of me wishes that I had just punched Nancy Bobofit in the face and called it a day. Expulsion was nothing compared to what I was about to experience. But I do know that my heritage would have caught up to me anyway — going back in time and changing it would just be delaying the inevitable.

When we arrived at the museum, everyone walked off the bus. Mr. Brunner, the wheelchair-bound Latin teacher, gave a small speech about what the day would entail while Mrs. Dodds, the pre-algebra teacher, looked on with a nasty expression.

A short while later, my class was walking by the Greco-Romani exhibits and Mr. Brunner was explaining each one and what it was thought to represent as we moved past it, occasionally stopping to give a large description.

While we had stopped at a certain statue with — ahem — a phallic attachment, Bobofit began giggling with her clique. Now, I'll freely admit that Mr. Brunner is a wise person — choosing to ignore them might not have been the best solution, but it worked for him.

I wasn't that wise. In fact, I neglected my probation status, so much so that I physically turned around.

"Will you shut up?!" I said, much louder than I had intended for it to be. Mr. Brunner — as well as all of my class, Mrs. Dodds, and the museum personnel — obviously heard me.

"Do you have something to say, Mr. Jackson?" the Latin teacher asked.

"No, sir," I replied, feeling very foolish for yelling as loud as I had.

Mr. Brunner paused for a moment before turning to the statue. "Tell me, Mr. Jackson," he began, looking at the sculpture. "What does this effigy represent?"

I waited, looking at the statue before my eyes widened. "That's Kronos eating his children, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner accepted, not entirely satisfied, "that is correct. Why did he do this, Mr. Jackson?"

"Kronos was the king of the Titans," I began. "He didn't trust his children, the first gods, because his father Ouranos foretold that, one day, Kronos' own children would rise to overthrow him, just as Kronos had done to Ouranos. This was the reason that Kronos ate his children. If they were in his stomach, Kronos would always know where they were.

"Unfortunately, while this would have worked, the Titaness Rhea, Kronos' wife, hid their last child, Zeus, and had the Titan King eat an infant-sized rock instead. Years later, when Zeus had grown up, he fed his father a nectar and mustard cocktail, leading Kronos to vomit his other five children out of his stomach.

"Zeus, his siblings, and the peace-loving Titans fought against Kronos and his army for about a decade in the Titanomachy. Eventually, just as Ouranos prophecized, Zeus overthrew Kronos' reign and became king, but not before using his own father's scythe to slice the Titan Lord into a thousand pieces. The Titan's remains were cast into Tartarus, where they were to remain until the end of time."

While Mr. Brunner gave me a large smile, Bobofit began to mumbling to a friend of hers.

"Like we're gonna need this in real life. Yeah, it's going to say on our job applications, 'please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner began, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent statement, how does this question matter in reality?"

Grover snickered.

"Shut up!" Bobofit yelled at my friend, her face as red as her hair.

I paused, racking my memory for anything Mr. Brunner might have said in class that involved real-life comparisons while trying to figure out how I had memorized my long answer. "I don't know, sir."

Mr. Brunner still had a smile on his face, but it seemed more forced now. "Very well, Mr. Jackson. Half-credit for your answers."

" _You had your Sharingan activated when you read that portion of your textbook,"_ a calm voice said, interrupting my thoughts. " _Those eyes give photographic memory, among other qualities."_

It took every ounce of my willpower to not jump and yell, but it was a very close thing. The voice didn't respond when I questioned it quietly through my voice. By the time it occurred to me that it would be a good idea to think my answer, the voice was gone.

Mr. Brunner dismissed us for lunch not long after that. Grover and I ate together at the large water fountain, isolated from the other students.

"I'm really impressed, Percy," Grover remarked as he chewed on his swiss cheese sandwich. "It was pretty awesome how you gave such good answers to Mr. Brunner's questions."

"I wish I knew how I did that," I said, confused.

" _I already told you, foolish boy,"_ the voice in my head said, returning. I almost jumped again. " _Don't make me repeat myself."_

" _Who are you?"_ I asked in my head, assuming that it could hear me. " _Why are you in my head? Why am I the only one that can hear you?"_

Suddenly, a black and white hue took over my reality while the sky turned red. Everything was frozen, from the crumb of bread that was in the process of falling out of Grover's mouth to the spit flying out of Bobofit's.

A man with his hair pulled into a ponytail appeared in front of me, the same shades coloring him like everything else. His most notable feature, to me at least, was the permanent tear tracks engraved into his face. A cloak with clouds dotting its surface wrapped around his body.

"I only have a few moments to speak to you as of now, young Uchiha," the man began. "I'll have to make this as quick as possible.

"My name is Itachi Uchiha. You are one of the last living descendants of my once-powerful clan. For the past fifteen-thousand years, our family has been all but extinct, with only a single family surviving in the gene pool until now.

"The eyes I spoke of earlier — the Sharingan — are very special eyes that only awaken in our clan. You are the only member to unlock these eyes since the near-extinction of our family.

"For thousands of years, I have waited in the pure world, not reincarnating, leaving all of my friends and family behind as they chose to try again at life. I had almost lost hope of our bloodline activating ever again, but my patience has finally been rewarded.

"As I've said, your eyes are special, and one of the many abilities they grant is a photographic memory when they are active. I will explain more of its abilities later when I have more time, but for now, you will just have to wait."

With those last words, Itachi faded out of existence and time resumed. The blue escaped with him, and color returned to the world.

" _What the hell was that?"_ I screamed in my head. I looked at Grover, who was silently picking crumbs up and off his shirt. I was about to ask him if he had seen Itachi as well, before —

"Can I have your apple?" he asked. I wasn't feeling hungry anymore, so I gave it to him.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes as I thought about what my apparent ancestor had said before Bobofit came over to us. Before I could ask what she wanted, she dumped her entire lunch into Grover's lap.

"Oops," she said mockingly, grinning sadistically at me.

I tried to remain calm — really, I did. I tried to remember what the school counselor had told me — count to ten, get control over my temper, et cetera — but I was so angry at Bobofit for doing that that my mind went blank and, the next thing I knew, Bobofit was in the water. I don't remember touching her, but I don't remember anything from that point, so I'm not surprised.

"Percy pushed me!" she screamed, and I bowed my head. This was it — I was getting expelled yet again.

Mrs. Dodds practically materialized next to me, a sickly grin on her face. Some of the kids around us began to whisper.

"Did you see? —"

"— the water —"

"— like it grabbed her!"

"Now, honey," Mrs. Dodds began.

"I know," I interrupted foolishly. "Erasing textbooks for a month."

Clearly, that wasn't the right thing to say, as evidenced by when she shook her head in the negative, her cruel grin growing.

"Wait!" Grover shouted, grabbing Mrs. Dodds' attention. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stared at my best friend, stunned into silence. As far as I knew, Mrs. Dodds — no, just Dodds. She had lost all of my respect — scared Grover to death. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me with her of all people.

But it was no use. Dodds glared at him and his wispy chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she chided.

"But —" he began to protest.

"You-will-stay-here!" she almost growled, the words coming out in one jumbled mess like she was trying to hold onto her humanity. Oh, how right I was.

Grover looked at me desperately, but I smiled at him.

"It's okay, Grover," I said. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Dodds said, but the word sounded like the opposite — venomous, poisonous. "Now."

Bobofit smirked at me. I glared at her. For reasons I still don't exactly understand, she began sweating like a pig before vomiting all over the ground — she had hopped out of the fountain almost immediately after Dodds had come over.

I looked back at Grover, who was trying desperately to get Mr. Brunner's attention, but he was wrapped up in the novel he was reading. I looked back toward my demented math teacher and, somehow, she was already atop the staircase that led into the museum. I couldn't help but feel like I was missing pieces of a puzzle.

" _Okay,"_ I thought in relief as she stopped by the gift shop. " _She's just going to make me buy a new shirt for Bobofit."_

But that wasn't the case. As soon as I arrived near her, she walked away, deep, deeper, and deeper still into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, the two of us were standing across from each other in front of the Kronos statue from earlier that day. The effigy's eyes bored into mine as if trying to extract secrets from within my head.

The gallery was completely empty aside from the two of us. A noise echoed against my ears and I strained them to better listen. It sounded like growling. How odd.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said, just like how a person would remark about the weather.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, still respectful on the outside. I wanted — no, I needed to not get expelled.

"Did you really think that you would get away with it?" The look in her eyes was beyond angry — no, it was evil. Pure evil.

" _She's a teacher. It's not like she's going to hurt me."_ I gulped nervously. "I'll try harder, ma'am."

Suddenly, thunder shook the building despite the sky outside being clear.

"We are not fools, Perseus Jackson," Dodds began, and I narrowed my eyes. Why was she using my full name? "It was only a matter of time before we found out. Confess to the crime and you will endure less pain."

" _What the hell is she talking about? Did they find out about my illegal stash of snacks in my dorm? Oh, no, did they find out that I'd gotten my essay on Tom Sawyer without reading the book? Will they take away my grade? Or worse — make me read the book!"_

"Well?" she demanded impatiently.

"M-ma'am, I don't —"

"Your time is up," she said, but it wasn't the voice I knew from Dodds. No, it was almost demonic in nature.

Abruptly, Dodds began to change before my eyes. Her eyes began to glow like hot coals, her fingers stretched into talons, and her old lady jacket turned into large leathery wings.

Something clicked at that point — this old hag-looking monster that I knew to be my pre-algebra teacher was going to use her crusty talons, bat wings, and yellowed teeth to try to rip me to shreds.

Things began to get even stranger — my vision turned black and white as it had earlier with Itachi, and the silhouette of Mr. Brunner — who had been outside up until a moment ago — slowly rolled on his wheelchair, showing that time had not stopped.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, tossing a pen through the air.

"Die, Honey!" Dodds screeched as she lunged toward me. But everything was moving in slow motion, including their voices. I dodged the creature that was once my math teacher and grabbed the pen, but when I looked at it in my hands, it wasn't a pen anymore — no, it was the bronze sword that Mr. Brunner used on tournament days.

Dodds turned toward me again and hissed. "DIE!" she wailed as she lunged at me once again, but my vision showed me the path that she would take. I rolled under her strike and swung my blade, slicing clean through the math teacher monster's midsection.

She screamed in pain and exploded into a wave of yellow dust. A wave of air flew past me and when I turned to thank Mr. Brunner, he was gone.

"What the hell is happening to me today?" I asked myself, walking outside.

Bobofit turned toward me and gave me a dark look. It wasn't very intimidating when she had and amount of vomit on her shirt.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr whooped your butt!" she shouted viciously.

"Who?" Who was Mrs. Kerr?

"Our teacher, duh!" Bobofit scoffed and walked away.

I walked over to Grover, who was still sitting by the fountain.

"Where's Mrs. Dodds?" I asked him. He winced.

"W-who's Mrs. Dodds?" Grover stuttered, not meeting my eyes. I was about to begin badgering him to tell me, as he obviously was lying to me, but I remembered that I had Brunner's pen in my hand. When had it reverted from the sword?

I walked over to the wheelchair-bound man and he looked down from his novel, as though he'd never put it down in the first place.

"Ah, that would be my pen," he said, looking into my eyes. "Next time, please try to bring your own writing utensil, Mr. Jackson."

"Sir," I said, staring defiantly into his eyes. "Where is Mrs. Dodds?"

But Mr. Brunner gave me a blank look. "Who?"

I sighed. "The other chaperone, Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

Mr. Brunner frowned at me and sat forward, looking mildly concerned.

"Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been any Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy." He frowned further. "Are you feeling alright?"

I heard a small chuckle in my head, and Itachi spoke for the first time since he had materialized in front of me.

" _He's a good liar, I'll give him that much."_ I had the impression that Itachi was shaking his head. " _But he cannot fool me. What you have seen is most definitely real and, as such, you will need to learn to defend yourself. You won't always have someone on hand to give you a weapon — quite the opposite, really."_

I grimaced as I began to walk away from Mr. Brunner without giving him an answer. " _Then teach me, Itachi. I want to learn._

" _Very well,"_ Itachi acquiesced. " _Every night, as you sleep, I will teach you how to defend yourself against foes with your chakra, your wits, and your strength."_

" _Chakra?"_ I said curiously.

" _Indeed. By the time I am done with you, descendant mine, no one will be able to fight you and win."_

* * *

 **A/N I:**

 **Does this look like CJShikage's first chapter? Yes, yes it does. But there are only so many ways to introduce a character, especially in the style of the first chapters of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief.**

 **If the aforementioned author desired of me to take my story down, then I will. The only reason there is for myself writing this if because I feel like CJ's story has become too convoluted. I will try to remain true to the Percy Jackson canon storyline before branching out in everyone's favorite book in the original series: the Titan's Curse.**

 **All you, the reader, must do is bear with me until then.**

 **Oh, and I should probably put a disclaimer in here.**

 **Naruto is a property of Masashi Kishimoto and Percy Jackson is owned by Rick Riordan. I do not own either series in any way, nor do I attempt to make claims of the said ownership. This is all in good fun, after all, and to hone my writing skills.**

 **I will see you in the next chapter.**

 **Tychon.**


	2. II

I was used to the occasional freaky experience, but they were typically over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr — a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip — had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho or something like that. It got very annoying after a while.

It got so I almost believed them — Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

Aside from Itachi's constant reassurances that, yes, what I had seen was real, Grover couldn't fool me. When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist — or, instead of hesitating, stutter the whole way through his answer. But I knew he was lying.

Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum. But I had no answers as to what that was, nor did Itachi for that matter.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.

Of course, that was when I wasn't learning with Itachi. We reviewed everything I was taught in class in addition to more textbook-oriented stuff that he learned when he was in school — or, as he called it, 'the Academy.'

Something that soured my mood was Itachi's reluctance to teach me how to use the Sharingan. I was still at the first level of it, which meant that all I could do — to my knowledge — was see things in slow-motion. Itachi said that there were other levels, but he also said that there was no point in teaching me how to unlock them.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my disposition at all. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden and violent winds in the Atlantic this year.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. Despite my best efforts, my grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got into more fights with Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good. Itachi told me that it meant 'a fool or a stupid person.' He also told me that I had made a mistake in saying that, but that's beside the point.

The headmaster at Yancy Academy sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official — I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

"Fine," I told myself. "Just fine."

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.

And yet... there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window. The Hudson River in the distance. The smell of pine trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little strange. I worried about how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Latin class, too — Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well were some of my happiest memories of this school year.

Itachi began to almost force knowledge into my head, and, soon, I knew more about math, science, and language than I ever thought I would. I was almost able to read English perfectly without my Sharingan thanks to it, which wasn't how I thought dyslexia worked. Itachi told me that I was right, which leads me to believe that it isn't dyslexia at all. But that's all meaningless for now.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being of life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

* * *

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Forget it. Even with Itachi's help in conquering in English language, Latin was still a mystery.

I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. "I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson," he had said.

" _Why don't we ask him for help?"_ Itachi asked.

I paused mid-stride. " _What are you saying?"_

Itachi sighed. " _What I mean is that you should go to your teacher and ask him for assistance with your Latin studying. I've done all that I can do to assist you."_

It wasn't a bad idea.

I took a deep breath and picked up the mythology book.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.

" _Your sarcasm shines from within,"_ Itachi deadpanned.

I ignored him and walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of the cubicles were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I was three steps away from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said "... worried about Percy, sir."

I froze solid. Why was he talking about me? And to Mr. Brunner?

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult.

I inched closer.

"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too —"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

What were they talking about?

" _Hush, Perseus,"_ Itachi said, making me flinch. I obliged.

"... may not have time. The summer solstice deadline —"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, he saw her... ."

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall —"

The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud. Keep me alive?!

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clopping noise, much like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

" _Do not make a single sound, Perseus Jackson,"_ Itachi said worriedly. I couldn't even bring myself to nod.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover agreed. "But I could have sworn…"

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

Grover groaned. "Don't remind me."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"

I didn't answer. How could I?

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... tired."

I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger.

" _We've already figured that out, Percy,"_ Itachi said. I could tell that he had rolled his eyes. " _We need to prepare. It sounds like your friend and your teacher don't want you to know about the danger you are in."_

I nodded tiredly. Grover didn't notice. " _Are you going to start my physical training yet?"_

" _Yes, and soon,"_ Itachi said. " _But first, we will need to pick a weapon for you to use."_

That night, like most nights, Itachi and I studied what I had learned that day. Unlike most nights, however, there was a major focus on Latin. I needed to have as much knowledge of it as I could — Mr. Brunner thought so, Itachi thought so, _I_ thought so. I needed to pass the exam. That was the first step. The first step to what? I wasn't sure.

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.

For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's... it's for the best."

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

I mumbled, "Okay, sir."

"I mean…" Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

My eyes stung.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. After saying he  
believed in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.

"Right," I said, trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say... you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be —"

How dare he? How _dare_ he?!

"Thanks," I blurted angrily. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."

"Percy —"

But I was already gone. I pushed past people in the hallways, going so far as to almost pick a really little kid up and nearly throw him out of my way. Itachi tried to calm me down, but I would have nothing to do with it.

" _Perseus Jackson!"_ Itachi yelled once I was back in my room. I winced at the tone. It sounded like a chainsaw was next to my ear — but it had the sound range of the loudest Tyrannosaurus Rex.

" _Yes, Itachi?"_ I thought bitingly. I wasn't in a good mood at all.

" _Listen to me! That teacher of yours was trying to tell you that different doesn't always mean bad! He was trying to tell you that you're Percy — you could never be someone else. You are who you are, and there's no changing that. No matter how much you want to."_

I paused before sighing. " _You're right, Itachi, like you always are. Thank you."_

" _Don't mention it, Percy,"_ Itachi said, brushing my complement off like it was nothing. " _Now get some rest and come in here, you still have much to learn."_

* * *

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month.

They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were _rich_ juvenile delinquents. Their fathers were executives, ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies — or, at least, that's what they thought. I wasn't tempted to change their minds, either. Who'd believe the fact that I was from a clan older than civilization itself?

They asked me what I'd be doing this summer. I told them I was going back to the city — what I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

Then they went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying goodbye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy — as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody around to do that on the Greyhound.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Looking for Kindly Ones?" I said innocuously.

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha-what do you mean?"

I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam. I realize that it was a stupid thing to do in hindsight, but it seemed like the right course of action at the time.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh... not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"

He winced. "Look, Percy... I was just worried about you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers…"

"Grover —"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and…"

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer.

The card was in a fancy script, which was murder on my 'not'-dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

 _Grover Underwood  
_

 _Keeper  
_

 _Hal_ _f-Blood Hill  
_

 _Long Island, New York_

 _(800) 009-0009_

"What's Half —"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um... summer address."

My heart sank. Grover had a summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy.

"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come and visit your mansion."

He nodded. "Or... or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?"

It came out far harsher than I had meant it to.

" _Perseus!"_ Itachi scolded, and I immediately knew that my physical training was going to be much harsher than I had ever hoped it would be.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

Suddenly, there was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were on a stretch of country road — no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

* * *

 **A/N II:**

 **Does this look like CJShikage's second chapter? No, not at all, right? Definitely not. I decided to forgo his formula for the second chapter of "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief" by fleshing out story elements. It was difficult, but here I am.**

 **Speaking of CJShikage, he has graciously allowed me to continue this story. That doesn't mean that the admins might not try, but I believe that my story is now significantly different from CJ's.**

 **My original plan of breaking off at the "Titan's Curse" may not come to pass, but you gremlins need not worry; It'll work itself out.**

 **Go visit my profile for updates on my stories! I also have a little link-like thing to share there, so PM me if you see that.**

 **Another disclaimer:**

 **Naruto is a property of Masashi Kishimoto and Percy Jackson is owned by Rick Riordan. I do not own either series in any way, nor do I attempt to make claims of the said ownership. This is all in good fun, after all, and to hone my writing skills.**

 **I will see you in the next chapter.**

 **Tychon.**


	3. III

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks that I'd ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me.

" _Percy,"_ Itachi said quickly, " _turn on your eyes and look at them."_

" _Alright,"_ I said, confused, but I did it anyway. As soon as I looked at them with the Sharingan, I was blinded by the gold that radiated from them.

" _W-what?!"_ I yelled internally, panicked.

" _It's just as I thought,"_ Itachi said. " _Those three beings are immortal, Percy. Do not mess with them unless you have to."_

" _I-immortal?"_ I said in shock. " _How do you even become immortal…?"_

" _There are a few ways that I know of,"_ Itachi noted, " _and none of them are very moral-based. Never choose to be immortal, Perseus Jackson. It will remove your humanity."_

" _R-right,"_ I agreed without another thought.

I looked over at Grover and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man —"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors — gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."

"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

" _Do not look at them, Perseus Jackson, or so help me,"_ Itachi began.

" _I-I can't… look away!"_ I responded worriedly.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for — Sasquatch or Godzilla. Of course, that was me trying to get what had just happened off of my mind.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling me?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

I decided to play ignorant to fish for information. "You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like… Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade," Grover mumbled. "They never get past sixth."

"Grover," I said firmly. He was really starting to scare me. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station," he said with terror-filled eyes. "Promise me."

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer. I got the feeling that he was holding in tears.

"Grover — they snipped the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

For a while, we were silent.

" _Um… Itachi?"_ I thought eventually. " _What do I do?"_

" _I'm at as much of a loss as you are, Percy,"_ Itachi said with a strange inflection. " _I don't know about — wait!"_

" _What?!"_

" _In the Greek mythology books we were studying,"_ Itachi began in his 'teacher voice,' " _there were myths about three old women who cut yarn to end lives. What were they called?"_

I paled. " _You don't mean the Fates, do you?"_

I got the feeling that Itachi was nodding. " _Someone will die soon. But if they are the Fates, then that means that rest of the Greek mythos is real, too."_

Sweat rolled down my forehead, not just because of the lingering heat of the broken engine. " _So someone will die soon, and its likely someone related to me."_

Itachi was silent for a few minutes. He was likely pondering something.

" _Percy,"_ he said suddenly. I jumped a bit. " _Have you looked at yourself with your Sharingan yet?"_

I hesitated. " _No, why?"_

" _Please do so. Don't ask questions."_

I complied and gasped. Mixed in with the blue chakra that all life had was gold — just like the Fates.

" _Percy,"_ Itachi said in a concerned manner, " _you're half immortal."_

I nearly fainted. I needed to speak with my mom about this to see if she knew anything.

* * *

Confession time: I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.

I know, I know — it was rude. But Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was already dead, muttering "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be sixth grade?"

Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up, so I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off the bus, he made me promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I got my suitcase, slipped outside, and caught the first taxi uptown.

"East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," I told the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the most rotten luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad.

I don't have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told me he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom told me. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him 'Smelly Gabe.' I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along… well, when I came home is a good example.

* * *

I walked into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom?"

"Working," he said. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No 'Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?'

Gabe had put on weight. He looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp — as if that made him handsome or something.

He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer. Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds. He called that our "guy secret." Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out.

"I don't have any cash," I told him.

He raised a greasy eyebrow.

Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looked at me with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he said. "The kid just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeated.

Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys passed gas in harmony.

"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of dollars out of my pocket and threw the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" he shouted after me. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

I slammed the door to my room, which really wasn't my room. During school months, it was Gabe's 'study.' He didn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loved shoving my stuff in the closet, leaving his muddy boots on my windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne and cigars and stale beer. I dropped my suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home.

Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of the Fates' shears snipping the yarn.

But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic — how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone — something — was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons.

Then I heard my mom's voice. "Percy?"

She opened the bedroom door, and my fears melted.

My mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy." She hugged me tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas!"

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand through my hair and demanded to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She didn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She didn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right?

I told her she was smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her.

Suddenly, I remembered what I had to ask her. Before that, though…

From the other room, Gabe yelled, "Hey, Sally — how about some bean dip, huh?"

I gritted my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

" _I concur,"_ Itachi said. " _She is a very nice lady, nicer than my mother was."_

A smile took over my face. I began to tell her about what the last couple of days had been like at Yancy. For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat about them. I told her I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself. I started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Bobofit suddenly didn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum…

"What?" my mom asked. Her eyes tugged at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

I froze. Should I tell her?

" _We need to talk to her about it eventually,"_ Itachi said. " _Now isn't a bad time to do it."_

"Mom, I…" I paused. There would be time later when we were out of the apartment and away from Smelly Gabe.

"No, Mom."

She pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back, but she didn't push me.

"I have a surprise for you," she said after a moment. "We're going to the beach."

My eyes widened. "Montauk?"

"Three nights, same cabin."

"When?"

She smiled. "As soon as I get changed."

I couldn't believe it. My mom and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Speaking of the devil, Gabe appeared in the doorway growling, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

I wanted to punch him (Itachi did, too), but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal — be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we would get out of here.

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," I muttered. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," my mom said evenly. "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip… it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," my mother said.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip… And maybe if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

 _"Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot,"_ I thought aggressively. _"And make you sing soprano for a week."_

But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad.

Why did she put up with this guy? I wanted to scream. Why did she care what he thought?

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in my statement.

"Yeah, whatever," he decided.

He went back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about… whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes — the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride — as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.

But then her smile returned, and I figured I must have been mistaken. She ruffled my hair and went to make Gabe his seven-layer dip.

" _When we get to this 'Montauk,'"_ Itachi said firmly, " _we will discuss this with her. She knows something."_

" _Yeah, I know,"_ I replied. " _But she wouldn't do anything to hurt me. She's my mom, after all."_

Itachi stayed silent.

* * *

 **A/N III:**

 **Wow. I did this all in one night. As a result, a bonus chapter for you guys!**

 **Now, my plan is to upload these weekly. So there'll be another one up on Tuesday the fifteenth of January, 2019.**

 **Now, I could upload them bi-monthly or even monthly, but that would be mean to you guys. After all, my main reason for uploading these stories, aside from improving my existing skills, is to make you guys feel something. Something happy, something sad, something that you just don't know how to describe. That's my goal.**

 **Aside from that, I hope everyone that's still in school is having a good week after winter break — I know I am, surprisingly.**

 **Disclaimer~!**

 **Naruto is a property of Masashi Kishimoto and Percy Jackson is owned by Rick Riordan. I do not own either series in any way, nor do I attempt to make claims of the said ownership. This is all in good fun, after all, and to hone my writing skills.**

 **I will see you in the next chapter.**

 **Tychon.**


	4. IV

After an hour of my mom and me packing our clothes and other such things, we were ready to leave.

Smelly Gabe took a respite from his poker game long enough to watch me schlep my mom's bags to the car. He kept groaning and moaning about losing her cooking — and, more importantly, his '78 Camaro — for an entire weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warned me as I lugged the last bag into the trunk. "Not one little itty-bitty scratch."

I almost scoffed out loud — like I would be the one to drive. I was twelve! But that didn't matter to Gabe at all. Even if a gull so much as defecated on his paint job, Smelly Gabe would blame me. He would find a way.

Watching him trudge back toward the apartment building, I got an idea. As Gabe reached the doorway, I made the hand gesture that I'd seen Grover use on the bus. It was a sort of warding-off-evil gesture — a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Smelly Gabe. The screen door flung shut so hard that it walloped him in the butt and sent him flying up the staircase as though he'd been shot by a cannon. It might have been the wind, or a freak hinge accident, but I didn't stay long enough to figure it out.

" _Interesting,"_ Itachi said. I couldn't help but agree with him.

I got in the old Camaro and told my mom to step on it. She obliged.

* * *

Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a small, light-toned box with curtains that had been colored at some point, half sunken into the mounds of sand. There was always sand in the linens and spiders in the cupboards, and most of the time the waters were too cold to swim in.

I adored the place.

We had been going there since I was a baby. My mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her — it was the place where she'd met my dad. It was obvious, what with the way she always had a wistful look on her face whenever we first got there for the year.

As we got closer to Montauk, she seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea. I commented on it to Itachi.

" _You're right,"_ Itachi agreed. " _Perhaps a god or goddess has blessed her."_

" _Blessed her?"_ I questioned. " _What does that mean?"_

Itachi chuckled. " _I'm sure that you will find out soon enough."_

We got there at sunset, opened all the cabin's windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I suppose I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing as blue food. They had a really big fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time — to me, at least. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This — along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano — was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like me.

But I digress.

When night fell, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, I worked up the nerve to ask about what was always on my mind whenever we came to Montauk — my father. Mom's eyes went all misty. I figured she would tell me the same things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.

"He was very kind, Percy," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know. And his green eyes."

Mom fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag and gave a woebegone sigh. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."

I pessimistically wondered how she could say that. What was so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive failure of a kid with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years. My only redeeming quality — in my eyes, at least — was my Sharingan, which no one knew about.

"How old was I?" I asked. "I mean… when he left?"

She watched the flames blankly. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But... I thought he knew me as a baby."

"No, honey," she said, shaking her head minutely. "He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

I tried to compute that with the fact that I seemed to remember… something about my father. A warm glow. A bright smile. A twinkling eye full of mirth.

I had always presumed that he knew me as a baby. My mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen me…

I felt angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resented him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry my mom.

" _You're right, Perseus,"_ Itachi grunted. " _It is 'stupid,' as you say."_

I narrowed my eyes. " _How do you mean?"_

Itachi groaned. " _Have I taught you nothing, pupil mine? You have golden chakra! Your mother is mortal, which means that your father…?"_

My mouth opened in surprise. " _...Is a god?!"_

Itachi snorted. " _I see that you indeed have a brain, Percy."_

" _Should I talk to her about it, in addition to my eyes and the monster that was Dodds?"_ I asked, ignoring his quip.

Itachi paused. It was silent for a few minutes.

" _Yes,"_ he said at long last. " _You should tell her about our eyes first and then branch off into the monster."_

" _Alright, Itachi. I will."_

"Mom?" I asked, snapping her out of whatever sort of trance she was in. She hadn't moved from her position at all — she was staring directly at the fire, too.

"Yes, Percy?"

I closed my eyes. "What do you know about the Sharingan?"

My mom made a confused sound. "What's that?"

I opened my eyes, showing off the first-level crimson eyes. She gasped.

"You have those eyes!" She quickly activated her own eyes, shocking both me and Itachi. Her eyes were at the third level, too, which made me feel a pang of jealousy, but I quickly quashed it.

"How do you have them?"

Mom shook her head. "They 'unlocked,' so-to-speak, when my parents died, and I felt a lot of pain behind them when my uncle passed away. They didn't change, though. What I do know about them is that they are activated from stress and loss. How do you have them?"

" _Tell her about Dodds, Percy,"_ Itachi said. " _This is probably the best time to do it. We both know that you had unlocked it before then — we just don't know exactly when — but she doesn't."_

" _Right,"_ I agreed.

"I unlocked my eyes when my math teacher attacked me after turning into a demon," I said in one breath before flinching.

I could hear Itachi slap his forehead in exasperation. " _What is tact, Percy?"_

"Perseus Jackson," my mother said, looking up sharply, "this is a very serious matter. I need you to answer me truthfully. Have you been attacked by any other unusual people?"

"No," I responded.

We sat in silence for a while. I could tell that she was thinking really hard.

"Well," Mom said after a few more minutes of quiet, "We should turn in for the night. Come on, Percy."

I followed her.

* * *

That night, I had a vivid dream.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals — a white horse and a golden eagle — were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I saw the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed.

"No!"

I woke with a start.

Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that breaks trees and knocks down houses — just like it was in my dream. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, however — just lightning making false daylight and twenty-foot waves pounding into the sand dunes like cannonry.

With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and muttered, "Hurricane."

I knew that was crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end.

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand, reached my ears. A desperate voice — someone yelling and pounding on our cabin door.

My mother jumped out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock.

Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn't… he wasn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looked at me in terror — not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

" _O Zeu kai alloi theoi_!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover didn't have his pants on-and where his legs should be… where his legs should be…

" _What have I gotten you into…?"_ Itachi murmured.

"I did tell her!" I shouted, but I was so… so confused! Confused at everything that was going on!

Mom grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car, now! Both of you! Go!"

Grover ran for the Camaro — but he wasn't running, no, not at all. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense to me. I understood how he could run so fast and still limp when he walked.

Because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

* * *

We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind shot toward the Camaro. Rain whipped at the windshield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot slammed on the acceleration.

Each and every time there was a bolt of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo — lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

All that I could think to say was, "So you and my mom… know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, even though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

" _This is not good at all,"_ Itachi said absently.

"Keeping tabs on you, making sure you were okay, that kind of stuff. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I am your friend."

There was a slight pause. All that was audible was the heavy pitter-patter of the rain.

"Um… What are you, exactly?" I asked, completely at a loss.

" _You know this, Percy,"_ Itachi noted worriedly.

"That doesn't matter right now," Grover said firmly. I ignored his tone.

"It doesn't matter?" I repeated incredulously. "From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey —"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!"

I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" he cried.

"What?"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

I paused. "Whoa — wait — satyrs? You mean like… Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit Mrs. Dodds existed!"

" _We knew that already,"_ Itachi said in a brusque tone.

"Of course."

"Then why —"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said immediately — like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who I — wait a minute, what do you mean?"

" _He's likely talking about you being a demigod, Percy,"_ Itachi said.

" _I know,"_ I responded. " _I'm fishing for information. Maybe we'll find out who Mr. Brunner is."_ I could feel Itachi smiling at my answer.

The strange bellowing sound rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than it was before. Whatever was chasing us was still hot — or, rather, wet — on our trail.

"Percy," my mom said, choked with emotion, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

" _Shinigami…?"_ Itachi muttered frightfully. I couldn't help but agree. The Lord of the Dead was after me?

"Grover!" my mom screeched exasperatedly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination. I could never dream up something this weird.

My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The summer camp I told you about." My mother's voice was tight — she was trying for my sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go."

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," I guessed. Itachi snickered in my head despite the situation.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means — the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to… when someone's about to die."

"Wait," I said, looking at him accusingly. "You said 'you.'"

"No, I didn't. I said ''someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, as in 'you.'"

"Boys!" my mom shouted.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid — a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

" _You are not ready for any of this,"_ Itachi said quietly. I ignored him.

"What was that?" I asked.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where 'there' was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness — the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me. "A Kindly One," Grover had said. What did that mean?

Then I thought about Mr. Brunner… and the sword he had thrown me. Before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash — a jaw-rattling boom! — and our car exploded.

* * *

 **A/N IV:**

 **This actually took a while. It was kind of infuriating trying to find a way to write this chapter in an original sense, but the base form of this that Rick Riordan wrote is just so** _ **perfect**_ **. I changed it to have a bit less tension, due to upcoming scenes, but that was pretty much it.**

 **To the guest that said "you can do better than this," thank you. Really. I appreciate what you said. But as is evident with the release of this chapter, Percy's act is just that — an act. He knows far more about the Greek myths than he lets on, and Itachi knows even more due to him studying it while Percy was learning other things at Yancy. Itachi did know about a lot of things, so History would be his only new subject.**

 **But that's all semantics. I appreciate the reviews that you guys leave.**

 **Also, I'll say it here — if you want to join my Discord server, private message me! We're not a big community yet, but we can be! We'll discuss all sorts of things there, from my stories to your stories, from video games to reality! It'll be fun, I promise.**

 **In addition to that, I'm changing the update schedule from every Tuesday to every Sunday. It's easier for my schedule.**

 **As for the disclaimer…**

 **Naruto is a property of Masashi Kishimoto and Percy Jackson is owned by Rick Riordan. I do not own either series in any way, nor do I attempt to make claims of the said ownership. This is all in good fun, after all, and to hone my writing skills.**

 **I will see you in the next chapter.**

 **Tychon.**


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